


Choices

by vendettadays



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Falling In Love, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pining, Romance, Unintentional Coffee Dates, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28574088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vendettadays/pseuds/vendettadays
Summary: Without the title of ACME agent and international super thief, Julia and Carmen were just two women whose relationship was increasingly falling into the grey.
Relationships: Julia "Jules" Argent/Carmen Sandiego | Black Sheep
Comments: 22
Kudos: 330





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was so happy to hear there would be a season 4 and also for Julia's return. The rating for this will go up on posting of chapter 3 and the tags will be updated to reflect the content. 
> 
> It's been a while since I posted outside an exchange - hope you enjoy!

‘What are we drinking today Jules?’

Julia looked up from her book, heart jumping at the smooth voice that was becoming far too familiar to her. She was the ACME secret agent and Carmen was the criminal super thief. On that basis alone, they really shouldn’t act so friendly with each other. It wasn’t appropriate given their respective professions and yet, Julia couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on her face at seeing Carmen. Even if her presence had the potential to disrupt Julia’s day. But she was off duty, ACME hadn’t notified her of any suspected thievery or VILE activity, and she was determined to make use of her one free day before she flew back to Seattle tomorrow. 

_‘Cà phê đá_ or Vietnamese iced coffee.’ Julia closed her book and placed it on the table. There was no point trying to read when there was someone so much more interesting in front of her. ‘It’s the perfect weather for it.’

‘I wouldn’t call sweltering heat and humidity perfect weather,’ said Carmen with a raised brow.

Carmen stopped a waiter on their way back into the café and Julia’s eyes widened, impressed as Carmen ordered an iced coffee in perfectly pronounced, if slightly halting, Vietnamese. She sat down in the empty chair at Julia’s table and let out a content sigh, crossing one leg over the other. Even in casual clothes with her hair tied up in a high ponytail, flyaway strands loose and unruly, Carmen still managed flair and finesse effortlessly. 

‘Cute top.’ Carmen reclined back and turned to Julia. ‘It’s nice to see you out of your usual black blazer and skirt combo.’ 

A red flush coloured Julia’s cheeks. She felt like she might combust under Carmen’s appraising gaze, grey eyes moving from her head down to her toes. She fidgeted with the hem of her loose, white crop top. No matter how she willed it, the material wasn’t going to magically extend down to the waistband of her jean shorts. She had thrown the top into her suitcase on a whim and with zero intention of wearing it. But laundry was always a problem on her ‘business’ trips and no matter how comfortable she was in her ACME uniform, she couldn’t bring herself to wear it on her day off. 

‘Hey, I mean it Jules.’ Carmen placed her hand on Julia’s wrist and smiled. It was an uptick to the corner of her lips, a barely there smile, but her eyes were warm and so was her palm on Julia’s skin. She reached up and tapped the thin, rose gold frame of Julia’s glasses. ‘You look good, I definitely prefer these over whatever regulation issued ones you get for work.’ 

Carmen moved away and Julia sucked in a deep breath, finding herself breathless and more than a little dizzy. She licked her lips and smiled back, ducking her head shyly, unused to receiving so many compliments in one sitting. Especially not when they were given by someone like Carmen, who looked flawless in her red t-shirt and black shorts that revealed a sinful expanse of smooth, tanned skin that had Julia looking away. 

‘Thank you,’ Julia cleared her throat and searched for the thread of conversation, before she had got… Distracted. Right, the weather. That was an easy topic she couldn’t get wrong. ‘What do you have against the Vietnamese climate? Surely, it’s better than the last place we were, Alaska was it?’ 

‘Siberia,’ corrected Carmen with a flick of her finger. ‘This is not perfect weather when your hair frazzles at relative 60% humidity.’ 

Julia laughed and pressed the backs of her fingers to her lips. It really wasn’t that funny, but with Carmen’s dry humour, even bad jokes didn’t fall flat. 

‘Siberia? We have gone to many places.’

‘Yet, you still haven’t caught me.’ A smirk curled the corners of Carmen’s mouth and Julia found herself following the line of her lips, captivated by the red lipstick Carmen wore. 

‘Is that a dare?’ asked Julia, eyebrow raising as she sipped at her iced coffee, aiming for nonchalant and cool, but instead felt stilted and cringe-worthy.

The smirk on Carmen’s face grew and she tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes as she rested her chin on her hand, elbow on the table. ‘You couldn’t catch me even if you tried, and to be fair, you have been trying very hard.’ 

‘Hm, that’s what we want you to think,’ countered Julia. She took another drink, humming appreciatively as the cool liquid slid down her increasingly parched throat the longer she spoke to Carmen. ‘Well, I guess we can’t arrest you if you haven’t done anything that warrants being caught.’ 

‘That you know of, right Jules?’

Julia almost choked on her coffee. She put her glass down and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. God, how did she do that? With minimal effort, Carmen moved from speaking with self-deprecating humour, to being a confident conversationalist, before sliding into a sultry, self-assured flirt.

She composed herself, barely, and turned to Carmen with a mock frown. ‘I have one day off, please don’t ruin it for me by confessing to a crime.’ 

A snort came from Carmen, so unexpected and graceless that it had Julia blinking at how _human_ it made her. Suddenly, she was no longer Carmen Sandiego, the super thief in a red coat and fedora, and was simply Carmen to Julia.

‘Fine,’ Carmen held her hands up in surrender, ‘no confession to ruin your holiday.’

Julia nodded. That would certainly be agreeable.

‘So let’s pretend that we’re just two people, acquaintances or even friends, enjoying coffee and chatting about the book you’re reading.’ Carmen settled into her chair and drank heartily from her iced coffee that had appeared sometime during their conversation and without Julia noticing.

‘Oh, my book?’ _Dull facts. Boring things._ That was what Agent Devineaux would say about Julia and her book. She pulled her hands into her lap, fingers fidgeting together. ‘It’s not very interesting.’ 

‘Why would you say that? You’re reading it, so it must be interesting. Unless you’re the kind of person that reads everything to the end, even if you don’t like it.’ 

Julia bit her lip. She was exactly that kind of person, but the book she was reading _was_ interesting. At a loss with where to start, Julia turned her glass this way and that, fingertips catching drops of condensation and changing the trajectory of their paths. The words unstuck from her tongue at Carmen’s encouraging smile and she found the reassurance she needed. 

The minutes turned to hours as they talked about their favourite book, which turned to talking about genres — Carmen read almost everything, whereas Julia liked historical fiction, though she admitted she enjoyed trashy romance novels as well — to their favourite cities and countries, then to the foods they had tried and things they had seen. Neither mentioned their line of work, and Julia stayed purposely away from talking about the future. 

The sky had turned dark, the sun having sunk beyond the horizon long ago by the time Julia realised that she had spent all day with Carmen. The coffee was finished, the shared plates of food cleared away, and candles placed on the middle of their table to light the dark.

Julia blinked at the way Carmen’s skin glowed warm in the candlelight. She was so caught up in being able to talk that she hadn’t noticed the time. They fell into a comfortable silence as the night settled over them like a blanket, and Julia couldn’t remember the last time she had just sat and _talked_ with someone. Her conversations of late had been with her colleagues and only ever about work. Julia hadn’t known how much she had craved the company of someone else, just to talk about anything and everything.

‘I think the last time I spent a whole day in a café waxing philosophical on any topic was in university.’

‘Well, I enjoyed it waxing philosophical with you today.’

It seemed so simple when Carmen said things like that, truthful and genuine in a way that Julia could not reconcile against the criminal that Devineaux painted her to be. 

‘So did I,’ admitted Julia with a shy smile directed at Carmen. ‘I really enjoyed it.’

She felt their night was coming to a close and she wished it didn’t have to end so soon. There weren’t many people in her life who could follow her train of thoughts, or the broad range of topics her conversations covered, or even the enthusiasm she had when she spoke about history. It was just her luck that one of the few people who did stood on the opposite side to her profession. 

‘I’m sure our paths will cross very soon,’ said Carmen, voice dropping in tone.

Carmen’s gaze lowered to Julia’s lips. She leaned across the arm of her chair and pressed a soft kiss on Julia’s cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. 

‘See you next time Jules.’ Carmen dropped some notes on the table, winked and left with a parting glance and wave of her hand. 

Julia stared transfixed on the woman, as she walked away and melted into the darkness of the street as if she was the night itself. She touched her cheek, the heat of Carmen’s lips felt like a brand against her skin. Her body flushed hot with the memory replaying over and over again in her mind and her intrigue with Carmen took root a little deeper than before. 

*** 

It would have been incorrect to say that Julia hadn’t been intrigued by Carmen before they’d shared coffee in a little café in Hanoi, Vietnam. It had started much earlier than that. The coffee had arrived later. From the moment Julia had seen the woman in scarlet running across the rooftops of Poitiers, her interest had piqued like a radio picking up a signal. Only a fortnight into her new job at Interpol and she had already been caught in the orbit of a mysterious woman whose red coat was all the more striking cloaked in the darkness of the night. 

Julia trudged up the stairs to the flat ACME rented for her, eyes drooping and head dizzy with jet lag after the fourth, no, fifth flight in four days? Whatever the number was, ever since joining ACME Julia felt she was in a perpetual state of jet lag. Even the countries had started blurring together these days. 

A smile appeared unbidden on her face at her most recent memory of Carmen drinking spiced coffee in Morocco, for the first time, drifted to the forefront of her mind. It was last country they had been in together before Julia had flown back to the States. She remembered how Carmen’s grey eyes had widened at the first taste, tongue darting out to lick the line of froth from her top lip. The small moan of appreciation had Julia turning away with a blush. She pushed her key into the lock of her front door harder than needed, as if to push the sound from her mind. That was happening more, those kinds of thoughts of Carmen, and she needed it to stop. 

The more they chased Carmen Sandiego around the world, the less convinced she was of Agent Devineaux and the Chief’s reasons for capturing her. What kind of thief stole valuable items only to return them to museums or their places of origins? 

She closed the door and shrugged off her heels, sighing in relief as she stretched her toes. The phantom feeling at the arch of her feet intensified as she stepped on blessedly, flat floor. She picked up the pile of post from the floor and flicked through the letters. 

Julia paused, fingers stilling between a letter from the water department and a colourful postcard with a photo of the glittering seaside in Rabat. She turned the postcard over to see a looping, cursive message. 

_Thanks for the coffee - C.S._

She held the creased card to her face, examining each word, the curls and the flicks of individual letters as they started and ended. She walked the rest of the way into her flat and dropped her travel bag onto the floor next to her dining table, eyes trained on the ‘C.S.’ with her heart in her throat.

Forensics would find this useful, but… Julia sat down, legs weak and indecision warred inside her. If Agent Devineaux’s dogged drive to capture Carmen Sandiego was an obsession, then Julia’s desire to earn her trust could only be described as a fixation. Sharing coffee together had been an unintended step towards that. A sent postcard to Julia’s home felt like a declaration of trust. 

The dull buzz of her phone broke through her thoughts and she moved automatically to fish her phone from the outside pocket of her travel bag. 

‘Hi Ma,’ said Julia, shoulders relaxing as her mother’s comforting voice filtered through in a stream of English and Cantonese into her ears. 

‘Finally! It feels like months since I heard from my only child!’

Julia rolled her eyes. ‘Ma, don’t be dramatic. I called you last week.’

‘You sound tired, you’re in Manila?’

‘That was two weeks ago. I’ve just arrived back from Morocco.’

‘That’s getting very close to Europe. When will you next be in England?’

Guilt settled inside Julia at her mother’s eager tone. It had been months since she last saw her mother in person. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll try to get time off to visit soon.’

‘Are you at least taking care of yourself?’ her mother asked. ‘You need to rest if you’re running after criminals all day.’

‘I’m… trying,’ said Julia, truthfully. There was already too much about her job she couldn’t share, the last thing she wanted to do was lie to her mother. 

At her mother’s exasperated sigh, Julia sank into her chair, feeling very much like she was ten years-old again and wishing she hadn’t dug a hole in her father’s vegetable patch looking for fossils. 

‘Since you’re too busy with work to visit your ageing mother, I doubt you would have any time to meet someone to bring home to dinner when you do visit?’

It took a second too long for Julia to reply to her mother’s teasing question, distracted by the bright blue sea on the postcard before she realised what she had done. Her mother like a hawk, latched onto her pause and Julia pinched the bridge of nose for the impending inquisition. It was all Morocco’s fault. She turned the postcard over, but the ‘C.S.’ only distracted her more.

‘Who are they and why haven’t you said anything about this?’

Julia groaned and leaned back in her chair. ‘There’s no one, Ma. Please stop.’

‘But you paused? Then there must be someone.’

‘Really, it’s no one,’ said Julia firmly.

She blundered her way through the call for the next half an hour, trying and failing to dodge her mother’s endless questions and speculations on who this non-existent person could be. When Julia finally hung up and placed her phone down, she felt the beginnings of a tension headache and even more weary.

Her mother had seemed so sure that there was someone. An image of red hair and grey eyes rose sharply to mind. That was a definite _no_. She and Carmen were on different sides, not quite enemies in that ACME and Carmen’s goals often overlapped, but they certainly weren't allies. What she and Carmen had couldn’t even be called an acquaintance in the real sense of the word. She knew far too much about Carmen for it to be applicable. 

The initials on the postcard seemed to stare back at Julia, as if they knew her thoughts and the person they related to. Turning the card over hadn’t help, because as it was with all of Julia’s interests, it was all or nothing. There was no middle ground to her interests. There was no such thing as being a casual fan when it came to being Julia Argent. Her entire focus, body and being was invested in learning as much as she could about a subject. It didn’t matter if it was the ancient city of Petra. Or the Tilka ruins in Northern Guatemala. Or the Borobudur temple in Indonesia. Julia would search for as much information as she could find until her curiosity was sated. 

Carmen Sandiego was no exception to the rule. She was a person of great fascination and frustration to Julia. No matter how much she dug, how many files she accessed at Interpol and then at ACME, all she found was a name, photos and a sparse profile of a thief with a very loose definition of larceny for her MO. 

The name had to be fake. The photos were always unfocused and never quite caught Carmen’s face. She was a blur of red in the background, but Julia didn’t need photos. She couldn’t have forgotten the way Carmen Sandiego looked if she tried. Carmen who had unwittingly sat opposite her on a train, and she hadn’t been able to look away. 

Putting the fake name and bad quality photos aside, it was the MO that Julia got stuck on like a difficult maths problem that she couldn’t resist solving. It was in the patterns, habits, and actions that made a person and held the answers to secrets. Carmen was multifaceted in her complications and contradictions, and her actions spoke louder than words.

How could Julia resist solving an unresolved incongruity like Carmen?

Julia got up from her seat. She was in desperate need of sleep and thinking about Carmen Sandiego was not going to help her to sleep any sooner. She picked up the postcard, thumb running over the message. No one sent postcards anymore. People didn’t give out their addresses to just anyone, not that Julia had given her address to Carmen.

Postcards required effort.

Postcards indicated intimacy from the sender to the recipient.

Postcards required some form of relationship between two people. It was from that one accidental meeting on a train to Agra City that catalysed a relationship Julia couldn't have prepared for. Lately, it was one centred around tables and chairs in cafés and coffee shops, and not just the chase of an agent and a criminal. It was a relationship rapidly becoming more for Julia, no matter how she tried to deny it. 

Julia held up the postcard with half a mind to throw it away, the other half to disclose it to the agency. Instead, she tucked it into her bookshelf and tried to forget it was there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference to Julia being British Chinese is from 'Who in the World Is Carmen Sandiego?' by Rebecca Tinker, a publication affiliated with the cartoon and can be found  
> [here](https://www.carmensandiego.com/book/who-in-the-world-is-carmen-sandiego-book/).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning that the rating for next chapter will change to either M or E.

The problem was Julia couldn’t forget about the postcard or the person it was associated with. It was not for the want of trying. Almost every time she got home from another trip overseas, she would find another postcard or postcards on opening the front door. Always the same simple message, always signed off with two letters, and never in the same handwriting. 

As for the person? Almost every trip ACME sent her on involved Carmen in some form or the other. Almost always directly, sometimes in the periphery, and rarely without. Julia would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the ones where she got to share a coffee with Carmen. Their coffee meetings weren’t as long as that time in Vietnam, but even a few minutes talking to Carmen without ACME or VILE dominating their conversation was enough to revitalise Julia. Somehow in all the chaos, there were still quiet moments to be found and Julia yearned for those moments, when the world slowed down enough for her to breathe and she could sit with her thoughts. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that they always involved Carmen. 

Julia checked her watch. Another half an hour and she really should get back to the hotel. Her flight was at six in the morning and she needed to be at the airport two hours before. But she had stayed despite telling herself she should have left an hour ago. Another ten minutes had turned into another fifteen minutes until her watch read nine o'clock. 

‘You’re not waiting for me, are you?’

Her heart jolted at the familiar voice. Carmen slid into the booth and sat next to Julia, shrugging out of her thick coat. A shiver ran through her at the wisp of winter chill that Carmen carried with her from the outside. It was another one of their ‘chance’ meetings, not in a café as was their usual haunt, but in a quiet pub a few streets away from the touristy Temple Bar of Dublin. 

‘I’m enjoying the atmosphere, it’s been a while since I’ve sat in a pub for the sake of it.’ It was the partial truth. She did miss going to pubs, something she did on occasion before ACME and back when she had a life. ‘The world doesn’t always revolve around you, Carmen Sandiego.’

‘Ouch!’ Carmen placed a hand on her chest as if wounded. ‘That’s quite a blow to my ego.’

‘Your ego can handle it,’ replied Julia with a teasing smile. The banter came easier the more they talked. She enjoyed this back and forth, the joking and teasing came so naturally whenever she was with Carmen.

‘From anyone else maybe not, but I can make an exception for you,’ said Carmen. She leaned on the table with her chin in her hand. Her eyes lingered a moment longer on Julia’s face before darting to the drink on the table. ‘Isn’t it a bit late for coffee?’ 

‘This is not just any coffee.’ Julia cupped her hands around her half-empty glass mug, the warmth of her drink seeped into her skin. ‘This is _Irish_ coffee.’ 

‘So tell me Jules, what’s so special about Irish coffee?’ asked Carmen innocently. At Julia’s raised brow and evident disbelief that she did not know what an Irish coffee was, she added with a shrug and a small smile on her face, ‘I like it when you explain things.’ 

Julia’s fingers tightened around her mug. The matter of fact tone, the absence of flirtation or any inflection of humour always hit Julia harder than she expected. If she expected it at all. She was finding it more and more difficult to remain unaffected when Carmen said those kinds of things. The kind of things that had Julia’s pulse spiking, heart beating a little quicker at the genuineness in Carmen’s voice and expression.

She hoped the pub was dark enough to hide the heated blush on her face, as she tried to strings words together in a somewhat intelligible response. ‘Irish coffee is coffee with Irish whiskey, sugar and cream.’ 

‘That was disappointingly succinct.’ Carmen pouted, but still she got up to order at the bar. ‘You did that on purpose.’

‘Some things don’t need to be dressed up. It is what it is just as it says on the tin.’ The sureness in Julia’s voice belied the jitteriness inside her. Compared to Irish coffee, Carmen was so much more complicated and not at all what was on the tin.

Julia watched Carmen weave her way around the tables on her way to the bar. It was a red top and black jeans night for Carmen, casual clothing suited for a night down the pub. She forcibly kept her eyes on the back of Carmen’s head, refusing to allow her gaze to wander down below her waist. Carmen arrived at the bar and leaned on the top, foot on the brass bar at the bottom, hip cocked confidently. It didn’t take long for the bartender to see her.

The animated way Carmen spoke to the bartender, hands gesturing in the air and the burst of laughter made Julia wish she was right there with Carmen, just so she knew what they were talking about. A sick feeling squirmed in her stomach at the appearance of Carmen’s smile. As if summoned, Carmen turned suddenly and pointed to Julia, her smile growing when their eyes met. She waved back weakly. 

‘Made a new friend?’ asked Julia, unable to hold her curiosity in as Carmen sat back down next to her. 

‘That was Ciarán. He was giving me a crash course on Irish whiskies, turns out his husband owns the local distillery.’

‘You probably got a more a more educational explanation than I could have given you on whiskies. I don’t know a thing about whiskies,’ said Julia, shoulders relaxing with relief as the squirming in her stomach laid to rest. She smiled at Ciarán when he came round with Carmen’s coffee.

With their coffees between them, they chatted about anything that came to mind, an unspoken agreement that talk of ACME and VILE was off limits. Julia leaned forward on the table, resting her cheek in her hand as she listened to Carmen explain, enthusiastically and with gesticulating actions, an action scene from a fantasy novel that she was sure Julia would enjoy reading. 

Julia watched the corner of Carmen’s mouth lift up into that charming smile. The one that had her smiling back in return. It always made her forget the reasons why this was becoming an increasingly bad idea. Julia realised, belatedly, that Carmen had finished talking. She stared at Carmen, speechless as her eyes drifted downwards, transfixed by the way Carmen pulled her plush bottom lip into her mouth and trapped it between her teeth. She looked up and her heart thudded in her chest at the heat in Carmen’s eyes, turning them from grey to liquid silver. Carmen’s thigh against her own felt like a brand and she itched to be closer, to know if Carmen’s skin felt just as hot beneath the layers of fabric that separated the two of them.

It was the whiskey talking. It must have been, reasoned Julia, no matter how little whiskey there actually was in her coffee. Her body tilted unconsciously towards Carmen. There wasn’t a reality that she could let this happen willingly. No matter how tired or lonely or frustrated she was, Carmen should have been forbidden.

Julia’s hand found its way on Carmen’s knee. A small touch. One that Carmen could shrug off if she wanted. Except she didn’t and that made it all the more harder for Julia to resist Carmen and her charms and charisma. Carmen filled her thoughts easily. She was the first person in a long time who had given Julia the time of day to just _be_. The first person in a long time to have caught her attention with a smirk and a wink. 

It must have been the coffee or the whiskey or the lowlight of the pub.

It was not that Julia craved to be touched or yearned to feel lips against her own or longed to touch another. 

It was not that she was _attracted_ to Carmen Sandiego. 

The first touch of Carmen’s insistent lips against hers had Julia pressing in for more. Carmen’s hand went to her shoulder, holding tightly, and Julia found the courage to slide her own hand from Carmen’s knee and onto her thigh. Fingertips dug into Julia’s shoulder, bringing her closer, and she willingly gave into the pull. 

Hidden in a secluded corner of a pub, Julia kissed Carmen and felt the world shift, realigning itself to make sense, and Julia sank further into the heat of Carmen’s mouth. 

Carmen was more intoxicating than any alcohol Julia had ever tried. She tasted of coffee and whiskey, and something so uniquely Carmen that Julia couldn’t get enough of it. Carmen pulled back, lips not quite leaving Julia’s as she dipped down for another softer kiss, a little less urgent, a little more needy. She pulled back again, forehead resting against Julia’s as she took in a shuddering breath of air. 

The pub seemed quieter, Julia’s breathing sounded loud to her own ears as if their little corner was separated from the rest of the world by a film. 

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ The words left Julia’s mouth in a trembling whisper before she could stop them. She doubted she could have stopped them, even if she tried.

Without a word, Carmen linked their hands and together, they left the pub. They broke away to hastily put on their coats, but as soon as the last zip was done up, they went back to holding hands and Julia followed Carmen’s brisk pace with excitement and anticipation thrumming through her veins. 

***

Julia lifted her head and slowly pushed herself up to sit, legs sliding over the edge of the bed. She looked over her shoulder. Carmen was curled up beneath the sheets, red hair spilling over the pillow, fast asleep with a hand resting on Julia’s side of the bed. 

She would have given anything to stay wrapped up with Carmen, legs tangled and arms thrown over each others’ waists, snuggling together in bed until the morning. It meant she wouldn’t have to face the day and examine how right it had been to fall into bed with Carmen. She wouldn’t need to think about how complete she had felt in Carmen’s arms. 

A sleep-warm hand wrapped around Julia’s wrist and she exhaled shakily at how the touch grounded her, how it brought her back to present. Julia shifted around. The darkness of the room covered her nakedness, her usual shyness absent after the night spent they’d together.

‘You’re leaving?’ mumbled Carmen sleepily, eyes failing to open fully. 

‘I have to be at the airport in an hour,’ said Julia quietly. 

Carmen nodded, eyelids drooping further. Her hold on Julia’s wrist loosened. ‘Have a safe flight.’ 

Julia leaned down, unable to resist an adorable, sleepy Carmen and kissed her forehead. She lingered for a few seconds too long before she wretched herself away. The plane wasn’t going to wait for her. As she forced herself to her feet, she felt the loss of Carmen’s touch against her skin like the absence of air in her lungs. She swallowed thickly and put on her glasses. She followed the trail of discarded clothing, picking up and pulling each piece on until she reached the door where her boots were.

Fully dressed and with only her desire, wants and needs for the woman in the bed she recently vacated to keep her in the room, Julia opened the door and left without allowing herself to look back. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Trust me._

Those were the words Julia had said to Carmen in Stockholm. 

Two words that held so much that it was like imparting a piece of herself to Carmen. Two words and the months between them had unravelled in the space of two syllables. 

Shocked grey eyes filling with betrayal had sucked the breath from Julia’s lungs. Carmen had run from her and Julia had watched her fall from the top of the bell tower, the frigid February wind sharp on her face. 

It hadn’t been a month since Dublin and she’d lost Carmen already. 

Julia arrived outside the hospital room Carmen was in. Her palms sweated. The bouquet of flowers strangled in her hands. Gift shop flowers and suddenly, she wished she hadn’t bought them. Carnations in a variety of pinks, reds and white were nothing special. Amends couldn’t be made with flowers alone. 

She stared at the door and shuffled her feet. With a deep breath, she knocked timidly and opened the door. She froze at the sight of Carmen lying in the hospital bed, covered with a white blanket up to her waist, eyes closed and face ashen. Julia Swallowed down the lump in her throat and closed the door, her feet leaden as she walked to the seat by the bed.

The constant beep of the heart monitor provided unexpected comfort. As long as she heard the electronic beeps of Carmen’s pulse then she would be fine. Carmen’s hand was limp, but Julia cradled it carefully in her own, seeking solace in the warmth of her skin. She bit her trembling lip as she took in the lankness of Carmen’s usually bright hair, the pallor to her tanned skin, and how small she seemed for someone who was vibrant and full of life. 

Tears burned in Julia’s eyes and she closed them tight as guilt crushed down on her like a weight upon her shoulders. 

Carmen had almost died and it was all Julia’s fault. 

***

The week off work was a lot easier to get approved after Stockholm. ACME had messed up. The Chief had messed up. Julia had messed up. The Chief hadn’t said a word when she made the request by communicator, instead of going through their HR system, or commented on the deep frown to Julia’s brows, eyes stormy with challenge. She knew well enough Julia’s thoughts on the disaster that was Stockholm. 

Two months later, Julia found herself back in London for the first time in over a year. Her mother had been surprised when she had arrived on the doorstep of her childhood home unannounced and so severely jet-lagged, she didn’t know what time zone her body was running on anymore. But she had a tired smile on her face and had sunk into her mother’s open arms for a much needed hug.

Julia hadn’t realised how much she had missed London until she returned. There was nothing quite like the overcrowded bustle of the Tube at peak hours, the house roast from her favourite coffee shop just round the corner from her flat in Bloomsbury, and the British Museum being walking distance away so she could spend her afternoons wandering the exhibits if she wanted.

After so long spent travelling from country to country, boarding plane after plane, it felt like a novelty to be in one place for an extended period of time. If she stayed in London long enough, maybe then it would lose its charm, but she was only a few days into her three week holiday and there was plenty she could do. She had her books to keep herself occupied, or at least she tried to keep herself occupied enough to stop her thoughts from wandering—

‘Jules.’ 

Julia stared speechless, mouth falling open as the bustle of the museum coffee shop faded to the background and her world focused on the woman standing in front of her table. The teasing smirk gone. The tender gaze hardened. The scarlet coat and fedora was absent. Julia hadn’t known how often she had looked for that shade of red in a crowd until she had stopped seeing it two months ago. 

‘Carmen.’ The name fell from Julia’s lips in a whisper. 

A storm started inside her at the seeing Carmen in plain street clothes that disguised her from unwanted eyes. There was happiness to see Carmen, alive and well when all Julia had been able to imagine for weeks was Carmen lying in a hospital bed. Guilt swirled, tainting the relief and tempering her elation. 

‘Can I sit?’

The flatness in Carmen’s voice washed over Julia like a bucket of ice-cold water, extinguishing the hope that had been kindled. She slowly placed her book down and rested her hand on top, pushing the postcard of Dublin she used as a bookmark further between the pages. Julia nodded, adding a redundant ‘Yes’ as Carmen sat opposite her. 

She stared unabashedly at Carmen, cataloguing the changes since she had last seen her. A thinner face. A sharper chin. Grey eyes distant in a way that Julia had never seen directed at her in the time she and Carmen had known each other. Carmen’s absence had been as acute and noticeable as the expression of indifference she wore right now. Julia ached for the times before Stockholm. She wished for the familiarity between them to return, the jokes and the banter, the shared glances that spoke of something _more_.

‘How did you know to find me here?’ asked Julia. 

‘Your favourite place in the world is the British Museum.’ 

Julia wanted to cry. An offhand comment she had said months ago and Carmen had remembered. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Was this the end to their little coffee shop rendezvous? She blinked furiously, eyes downcast. It would serve her right if it was. Carmen had given Julia her trust and she had betrayed it, even if it was unknowingly. 

‘I’m sorry,’ whispered Julia. Her hand that wasn’t on her book gripped her knee tightly, fingers digging hard enough that she felt her nails through the fabric of her jeans. Tears gathered in her eyes, unexpected and sudden, and she closed her eyes to stave them from falling. She was not going to cry in the coffee shop of the British Museum. 

A warm hand covered her own, the one resting on top of her book. Julia bit her lip and with a steadying breath, she looked up at Carmen and her heart stuttered at the softness in Carmen’s eyes.

The hope inside her flicked to life as Carmen held onto her hand and stood up. ‘It’s a nice day, do you want to go for a walk?’

Julia nodded, grabbed her book and followed Carmen out of the museum, hands held tightly together as they walked in the direction of Russell Square. Carmen slowed their pace as they arrived in the garden square, a little piece of green in the middle of all the grey of London.

It was a divergence from their usual script of sitting around a table with coffee and Julia didn’t know what to expect. So she waited for Carmen to lead. The hope in her heart meant nothing if Carmen didn’t forgive her. 

After their fifth circuit around Russell Square, Carmen stopped and turned to Julia, mouth pursed and eyes sombre. ‘I missed you.’ 

‘I missed you too.’ Julia sighed, relief loosening the tension in her shoulders.

‘We should talk.’ 

‘Yes, we should,’ repeated Julia with a nod. It was the sensible thing to do. Talking. Her gaze darted to Carmen’s red-painted lips.

A frisson of energy passed between them as the world narrowed to only the two of them. She met Carmen halfway in a tentative kiss, afraid that she was reading this all wrong. But she wasn’t wrong, not when Carmen fervently kissed back. Julia poured all she felt into the kiss, as if this was a goodbye. In case this was a goodbye. 

They _needed_ to talk, but Julia’s mind blanked and thoughts of anything other than Carmen, Carmen, _Carmen_ left when soft lips moved against hers, ‘we should find a place to talk.’ 

She tugged Carmen by the hand and they rushed from the square. Never had she been so thankful then she was now for living so close by. The few minutes walk to her flat felt like seconds and they arrived outside Julia’s flat like no time had passed at all. She unlocked the door as quickly as her eager nerves allowed her and pulled Carmen inside.

The door to the flat slammed closed. Carmen pushed Julia against the back of the door. Julia’s hips jerked forward, seeking more of Carmen’s firm thigh as it slid between her legs. The whine in her throat was lost in the heat of Carmen’s mouth and renewed into a groan at the building pressure she already felt. Julia’s hand grasped the back of Carmen’s neck, pulling her closer as she kissed back, urgent and messy and in need for more. This wasn't how she had imagined this to go. She had half-expected stilted conversations as they struggled to navigate how they felt about Stockholm. About each other. She had not expected to be pinned to the wall, breathless with want for Carmen despite all that happened between them. 

Carmen grabbed the front of Julia’s shirt, pulling it from where it was tucked into her jeans, and unbuckled her belt with deft hands. In the stillness of the flat, all Julia heard was the sound of the zip being pulled down. She shuddered, throat bobbing and eyelids closing as Carmen’s hand slid against her skin and into her underwear. She was already soaked from only a few kisses and any other time, Julia would have been embarrassed but she didn’t care. She ached for Carmen’s touch. The memory of their last encounter in the darkness of a hotel room had kept her company on lonely, sleepless nights. Her own fingers were a poor imitation of who she really wanted. 

She gasped at the sharp nip of Carmen’s teeth at her bottom lip, her breathy exhalation melted into a moan. Her hand gripped Carmen’s shoulder, the back of her head hit the wall, mouth opening into an ‘o’ as she moaned, deep and long as Carmen’s fingers entered her. Carmen’s pace was unforgiving and Julia wanted it all. It was hard and fast. Her hips chased the movement of Carmen’s fingers, stuttering when Carmen hooked her other hand under her knee and drew Julia closer. Carmen's thigh added a little more force behind the next thrust of her hand, and that was all it took to tip Julia over the edge. A loud moan escaped her as she clenched tight around Carmen’s fingers, hot pleasure coursing through her as she came. 

Her entire body seemed to pulse, each stroke of Carmen's fingers and swipe of her thumb only prolonged the heat that ran through her like liquid silver, pooling at her centre until it felt too much, and yet not enough. Julia sagged heavily against Carmen, burrowing her face into her neck as the world came back into focus. Carmen had lowered her leg, but Julia couldn’t count on her legs to keep her upright when all she felt was tingling aftershocks running through her body.

‘I’ve got you.’

Julia’s eyes fluttered closed at Carmen’s softly spoken words, at the gentle kisses pressed to her jaw. Her skin warmed even more by the heat of Carmen’s lips and Julia wondered if she would get to feel those lips elsewhere. Her chest rose and fell, drawing in air quickly only for the air to leave in a surprised squeak as Carmen lifted her off her feet, hands beneath her thighs. She tightened her arms around Carmen’s neck.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Julia, heart racing in anticipation as Carmen walked through her little flat. ‘I-I thought you wanted to talk?’

‘Later.’ Carmen licked her lips, grey eyes molten and all Julia could do was let herself be carried into her bedroom. ‘I’m not finished with you yet.’ 

_‘Oh.’_

Along with Carmen’s name, it was the only other word that Julia knew how to say consistently throughout the afternoon and into the evening. 

They moved together frantically, clothes removed in bits and pieces, remembered only when it got in the way. She learned the patterns of made-up constellations on Carmen’s back, laid kiss after kiss on her soft, tanned skin on the inside of her thighs, and felt the jump of muscles beneath her hands as her mouth moved to where Carmen needed her the most. It was so different to see Carmen in the light of day, her red hair fanned out on the pillow, teeth biting down on her lip from the teasing flicks and dip of Julia's tongue.

Over and over again, Julia allowed herself to be taken and took in turn. It was desperately fast as if they had no time or achingly slow as if they had all the time in the world. Like now as Carmen fucked her slowly with long languid strokes that had her sobbing incomprehensible words, the side of her face pressed into her pillow and hand clasped tightly in Carmen’s free hand. No matter how she begged, Carmen only went slower. She took her time, thumb moving slowly and firmly in tight circles that had Julia’s thighs shaking with the frenetic need to come. 

The cadence of her voice grew higher and higher in pitch, until Julia almost didn’t recognise the needy whines and breathless gasps had she not known it was coming from her own mouth. 

‘You’re doing so good,’ whispered Carmen, lips just barely touching as she traced the line of Julia’s ear. ‘Can you wait a little longer?’

A desperate whimper sounded in Julia’s throat. ‘I-I don’t—’ She broke off with a choke and nodded frantically ‘—Okay, okay…’

Soft lips brushed against Julia’s jaw, shushing gently, and all she could do was gasp Carmen’s name in a breathless litany again and again and again. The hot, coiled tension at her core was unbearable, intense and all-consuming, but Julia pushed the pulsing pleasure away with a sob. 

‘That's it.’ Carmen curled her fingers and Julia lost the ability to breathe, face contorting with the effort to not let go until Carmen said she could. _‘Now, Jules.’_

Julia’s back arched off the bed like a bow at the command, her long, drawn out moans filling the room. Her vision went white as pleasure surged through every single part of her body, zipping along her nerves like electricity. She was held suspended, floating in a blissful haze as her muscles quaked and quivered from Carmen’s insistent touch.

The moment felt timeless, infinite and Julia lost all track of time as she crested wave after wave. When she finally sank back onto the bed, her chest heaved with every harsh, panting breath she drew into her lungs. Her body was boneless and sated, resistant to any thought of movement. Julie tried to keep her eyes open, but they drifted closed and the last thing she felt was a kiss to her cheek. 

***

Julia blinked against the weak morning light filtering in through her bedroom window. The curtains were undrawn. She was too tired to feel her usual mortification, and only hoped her neighbours hadn’t seen too much of her and Carmen’s frenzied coupling from the day before. She draped her arm over her eyes and groaned softly, her muscles complaining as she moved. Every part of her body felt sore, some places more than others, but in that good way that only resulted from hours of sex. 

Right, she had sex with Carmen. Lots of it when they should have been talking. Julia curled up into a ball and pressed her hands over her eyes as an intense ache started in her chest. She drew in a faltering breath, the weight of her feelings for the other woman finally catching up with her. It wouldn’t work. Could not work. Not when Julia was an ACME agent. Last night and every single shared moment since they had met, only made Julia a liability to the agency and yet, the idea of letting go of Carmen hurt so much more than losing her job. 

‘It’s too early to be thinking so hard.’ 

Julia froze at the sleepy voice. She moved her hands from her face, mouth falling open in disbelief at seeing Carmen on the other side of the bed, dangerously close to the edge. Her red hair was mussed and tangled, eyes bleary with sleep and not fully focused. 

‘You’re still here?’ asked Julia, quiet with shock. ‘I thought you had left.’ 

‘Didn’t wanna leave.’ Carmen shook her head with a small smile. She shuffled closer to Julia and wrapped her arms around Julia’s waist. ‘You tired me out.’ 

‘Oh, I did?’ 

‘Yeah, you did.’ Carmen chuckled lightly, eyes falling closed again. ‘I do still want to talk, because…’

‘Because?’ 

Carmen didn’t respond, seemingly to have fallen asleep, but her mouth moved in a mumble. ‘Because I… can’t stop thinking about you… and want to be with you…’ 

Julia’s breath hitched and all her exhaustion dispelled by Carmen’s sleepy confession. ‘Carmen?’

But Carmen slept on and Julia couldn’t bring herself to wake her up, no matter how much she wanted to, even as happiness and love filled her to the brim. She knew with absolute certainty that she had heard Carmen correctly. 

Julia thought about her job. She was one of ACME’s finest and whenever it came to being an agent, her head was in the game. It was her heart that wasn’t. Her heart hadn’t been in the game in a very long time. She looked at Carmen’s sleeping face and it all fell into place, as she realised her heart had been stolen by Carmen long before she joined ACME. She just hadn’t known it until now. 

The choice wasn’t hard at all. There never had been a choice, not when it came to the woman asleep in her arms. Julia tucked herself closer, chin on Carmen’s head of red hair and hand cupping the curve of her Carmen’s hip. There was an email Julia needed to send, but that was something for her to do when she was more awake. 

Julia closed her eyes and succumbed to the pull of sleep, secure in Carmen’s arms and in the knowledge that she had chosen and would always choose Carmen Sandiego. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
